


Jumin's first dat- first meeting

by Lonaargh



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: AU where MC is British, AU where she straight up refuses to sleep in his bed, Cute, F/M, Popcorn, Sleepovers, Spoilers, because wtf, corn that has been popped, pyjama party, seriously Jumin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 21:52:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8595100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonaargh/pseuds/Lonaargh
Summary: Jaehee has asked MC to go to Jumin because everyone is worried about him. But nobody knows what happens between MC getting there and the scene where he reads her a bedtime story. Well. Nobody but Jumin and MC themselves. And Jean-Pierre of course. Fluffy, cute, and slightly boring.--“Well, for starters, we have to get changed into something more comfortable than whatever you’re wearing right now.”Jumin frowned and looked down at what he was currently wearing.“I assure you, this is made of the finest materials and handmade just for me. It’s extremely comfortable.”--





	

**Author's Note:**

> A huge shoutout to my betas and neverending support, xlogophile, Stilienski and Lolymie. I love you guys so much. Sorry for shoving this fic in your faces every five minutes. 
> 
> Okay, so, I've been on a Mystic Messenger binge for a while now and I've fallen completely head over heels for Jumin. He was the second route I've done, Zen being the first. And I couldn't help but feel bad for him. He's hurting and struggling to come to terms with his emotions and feelings. I wanted to hold him and tell him everything would be okay. But the options the game gave me were very limited.
> 
> Anyway, I was wondering what happened between MC arriving at his house and the scene where they go to sleep. And then this happened. I'm sorry for potential boringness. I may continue this through multiple chapters to get my frustrations about Jumin's route of the way. Possibly. Maybe.

MC’s heart was beating rapidly in her chest as she waited at the lobby downstairs. How would he react? He was always so cold and distant, especially now that he and his father didn’t exactly get along very well. She had agreed to Jaehee’s request to cheer him up on an impulse, but now that she was actually here she had a few doubts. More than a few, really.

The Korean woman at the reception desk was talking rapidly on the phone, shooting MC several curious glances. Apparently it was not that common for Mr. Han- sorry, Jumin, to receive guests at this time of the day. This time of day being almost six in the evening. MC groaned. What was she thinking? He would be having dinner soon. She would totally be intruding on his time. Maybe she should tell the receptionist it was a mistake and come back tomorrow.

“Miss?” the receptionist hung up the phone and called MC to the desk. “Mister Han will see you now. Just step in the elevator, it will take you to the appropriate level.” Thankfully the woman spoke English. MC had come to Korea from England to experience working in different countries. She could speak a few words in Korean by now, but nowhere near enough to actually hold a conversation. MC smiled at the woman and nodded, before making her way to the luxurious looking elevator. This was amazing. Jumin must be richer than she had first realized. The doors of the elevator slid closed quietly and MC could hear soft music playing on the background. It was a pleasant tune, with lyrics that MC couldn’t quite understand, but it soothed her frayed nerves a little bit. The soothing effect didn’t last for very long though.

Oh God, what if he sent her straight back once he saw her? They had never met before. What if he thought she was being too forward? What if they didn’t get along? MC started chewing on her bottom lip, a habit that she hadn’t been able to stop with. The elevator reached the top level far too quickly for her comfort and the doors opened again, revealing a well decorated corridor lit up by several lamps on the wall. The click-clack sounds of her high heels were muffled by the thick, red carpet on the floor. MC had to resist the urge to lie down on the carpet and run her hands through the fabric just to test if it was as soft and comfortable as it looked. The corridor ended at a large door that looked to be made of dark, polished oak.

She took a deep breath and rapped her knuckles on the door.   
“Yes, come in!” Jumin’s voice (she had heard it frequently through the phone) called out from behind the door. MC pushed the door open and hesitantly stepped inside.

Wow. This room was... Wow. The penthouse was decorated minimalistically, but still managed to seem cozy and felt like a real home. Whatever she had expected from Jumin, this wasn’t it. 

Two men were staring at her. One was probably a security officer, judging by his suit and the earpiece. Mostly the earpiece. So the other one must be- “Jumin!” MC smiled at the tall man standing there, ignoring the fluttering of her heart. He was not what she had imagined. Of course she had seen his face a few times in his profile pictures. But they certainly didn’t do him justice. He was tall. So tall. MC herself wasn’t tiny by any means, but he still managed to tower over her. His dark suit complimented his grey eyes and raven hair and really accentuated his figure. His amazing figure. It was not fair for a businessman like Jumin to look like that. It had to be a crime somewhere. Somehow. Did he even have time to go to the gym or was he simply born like that? It was ridiculous. She blushed when she noticed that she’d been staring at him.    
Jumin stared back at her, obviously very surprised.   
“I… I didn’t know Assistant Kang would send you. God…” he muttered hoarsely. MC’s stomach did a strange backflip when she heard his dark voice for real for the first time. The security guard nodded at Jumin, muttering something in Korean before he left. Jumin absentmindedly answered the man, but he kept looking at MC. Then he shook himself, frowning slightly.   
“Sorry. I got a bit distracted. I apologize for staring at you, that was rude.” 

MC blinked. Did he just admit to staring back at her? She was sure that her cheeks were lit up like a lighthouse. Ignoring that, she flashed Jumin her cheeriest smile.   
“Jumin… I’m so glad to finally meet you.” She walked up to him, her hand extended in greeting. “Let me formally introduce myself. Mary Catherine. MC for short.” He relaxed slightly and took her hand in his. They were soft, but warm and strong. A careful smile crept on his lips. 

“I never expected you to come to my house,” he let go of her hand, “I feel a bit nervous… to actually see you like this.” He fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt, but he didn’t take his eyes off of her.   
“I thought I’d get to meet you at the party…” then he seemed to realize something, and his brow furrowed. “Wasn’t it dangerous on your way here? We still haven’t caught the hacker.”

MC shook her head, “Nah. There wasn’t anything dangerous about it. You forget that I grew up in London, I’m not easily fazed. Especially not by someone who’s more of a digital threat than a real life one, like a hacker. And Jaehee made sure that I traveled safely.”

“Don’t underestimate the threat this hacker poses, MC,” Jumin gently scolded, “he lured you to Rika’s apartment, so he is more real than you make him out to be. In any case, I’m glad that Assistant Kang looked out for your wellbeing.”

The sentence trailed off as he looked into her eyes again.   
“Oh, sorry,” Jumin grimaced, “I can’t help but keep staring at you. I still can’t quite believe it.” He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Regardless of that, though, it would have been better if I went to pick you up.” He folded his arms in front of his chest, a determined expression on his face. MC’s heart melted at that point. He always seemed so cold, so uncaring. But that was simply an outer shell. He actually did care about people, so much even that he wanted to pick her up because he was afraid for her safety. He was such a softie. 

At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug him.   
“Anyways…” Jumin went on, and MC woke up from her reverie. “What did you come here for?” This was the Jumin she had started to get to know through the chat. Distant, businesslike. 

MC started chewing on her lip again, praying to whatever god that would listen that Jumin wouldn’t send her away now.    
“Jaehee said that you seemed to be having a hard time and she thought I should visit you. To cheer you up,” she hurried on when Jumin raised an eyebrow. “And I agreed with her and came over because I got worried about you.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and MC wasn’t sure if this was a good sign.   
“So,” he said slowly, “she asked that of you.” He frowned, his disapproval obvious. MC’s heart went a thousand miles an hour. This was it. Now she had made him upset. He would send her back and never talk to her again. The idea alone was enough to make her extremely sad.   
“I didn’t realize she’d make such an outrageous request when this hacker is still at large.” Then his gaze was drawn to hers again, and he smiled fondly at her. 

“But I’m quite happy that you are worried for me.” He was happy. MC’s breath caught in her throat, and she couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m glad you’re here safe,” He made a sweeping motion with his arm, indicating the entire penthouse. “Welcome to my home, MC. You seem to have come a long way, so I hope you rest up.”

MC laughed, “Your house… is quite amazing.” She nodded at the enormous space they were standing in right now. “And the view from here… Jumin, I’m so jealous.” She walked to the large windows that gave a gorgeous view over the entire city.

  
“Do you like it?” he asked, walking up behind her. She couldn’t see his face, but he sounded slightly worried.

“Jumin, I love it. I can’t believe that this is where you actually live,” she exclaimed. “I would never want to leave here if I was greeted with a sight like this every morning.”

“It was my father’s building,” he went on, “I bought it from him last year. My private garden is near this building.” A private garden. This guy was really something.    
“I wanted to go see the roses there every weekend, so I moved.” He wanted to see his roses… who buys a whole building just to watch a couple of roses? MC wasn’t sure if she should be impressed by his soft side here, or feel disturbed by the idea of someone buying an actual freaking building for a bunch of flowers.   
“Whenever I brought one, Elizabeth the 3rd seemed very interested.” Ah yes. The cat. MC turned around at the mention of Elizabeth.

“Oh,” Jumin said, “late introductions.” He walked to the far end of the room, where a large cage stood near the window. Several toys and pillows were strewn inside the cage and a gorgeous white cat sat near the bars, obviously desperate for Jumin’s attention. 

“This is Elizabeth. I put her in a cage for now.”

MC frowned. This didn’t feel right. Elizabeth was Jumin’s prized companion. He loved her. Why on earth would he put her in a cage?

Elizabeth meowed miserably at her owner.

“Jumin,” MC started, not sure how to formulate this, “Why did you put her in a cage? I’m not sure she likes it.” She stuck her index finger through the bars of the cage, letting Elizabeth sniff it. She giggled softly when the whiskers tickled her skin.

  
Jumin looked away. “I had no choice. I will explain later, this is not the time.” He seemed annoyed, but that faded as soon as he looked at his watch.   
“Oh, look at the time,” he glanced back up at MC, and his smile nearly knocked her off her feet. “Have you had dinner yet?”

He motioned for her to follow him and he led her to a large dinner table where he pulled out a chair for her. “Please feel at home. I can order anything you want.”

“Order?” MC sat down on the chair, “But Jumin, I was hoping you would cook for me tonight!” She remarked jokingly. 

Jumin chuckled, a low rumble that MC could listen to for hours. “If you want anything that actually tastes nice and isn’t half burnt, then I suggest we call the chef instead.”

He sat down opposite from her, his face slightly troubled, “I have a request to make of you… and I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to ask of you, or if you will acquiesce.” He took a deep breath, “If it’s okay, I’d like for you to stay here today… Just tell me what you want. I can provide you anything.” His face betrayed no emotions, his voice was even. But MC sensed… something...underneath that cold exterior. Her heart skipped a beat. Staying here today? Well… it was late. And she wasn’t entirely ready to leave his presence yet.

She mentally shook herself when she realized that he was still talking, “...I never expected you to come, but now that you’re here, I’d hate for you to leave.”

He’d said it as if it were a business transaction they were concluding.

“That sounds great, Jumin.”    
  


“Thank you,” he said, the smile on his lips genuine, “You have no idea how happy that makes me. So. What would you like to have for dinner? My chef can make anything you desire.”

Her lips twitched and her eyes twinkled mischievously, “Anything I desire?”    
  


“Anything. I promise.”

  
“Fish and chips.” She leaned back in her chair, observing Jumin’s reaction. His left eyebrow rose slightly. But that was all. She had hoped for a stronger reaction, like maybe a burst of laughter or even disgust. 

“Fish and chips?” he asked, looking in her eyes, trying to see how serious she was about this. “I have a chef in this building who can make you anything you could possibly dream of. Lobster, duck, oysters… anything.”

“So you said.”

“And you want fish and chips.”

“That’s quite correct.”

He let out a soft laugh, just once, and leaned back in his chair. “You are quite strange,” he said, matter of factly, “but very well. I’ve never tried this dish before, so I’m rather curious as to what it’s like.” He stood up and walked to an intercom in one of the pillars. In rapid Korean he barked a few orders, presumably to the chef. When he sat down again MC felt that she was being observed like a caged animal in a zoo.

“You’re staring again,” she said, looking back at him. She’d be damned if she was going to let him intimidate her like that.   
  
“Am I? I apologize.” He didn’t sound like he was sorry. “It’s just that you’re more beautiful than I would have guessed from our conversations on the messenger.”    
MC couldn’t help but laugh at that, and Jumin raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “You think it’s funny that I find you beautiful?” He asked, his head tilted to the side. 

“Oh, no, not at all,” she hurried to assure him, “I’m very flattered that you think so, but I just thought it was funny that you had certain expectations simply by our conversations. I mean, I at least had some reference to go by with your profile pictures, but you had nothing to go on.” She leaned forward, “So… what did you think I would be like?”

  
“I am not sure,” his eyes flickered over her face, as if he was looking for some remnants of the person he had imagined instead of the real her, “someone more calm, more serene, that’s for sure.”

“More serene?” She wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a compliment or not.

“You are more lively in real life than you are in chat. You always seem so composed when I read your messages.” Jumin shrugged, “And when we talk on the phone your voice is always soft and compassionate.”

MC laughed, “Are you saying I’m just a thunderous, blunt person in reality? I’m not sure I really like you thinking of me that way, Jumin.”

“Oh, heavens no.” Jumin sat up, “it’s more comparable to seeing a real image after having stared at a two-dimensional drawing for ages before that. You are more… alive.” He looked slightly frustrated at his inability to explain it better.

“I think I know what you mean,” MC tapped on her phone to emphasize her point, “On the messenger I can’t see the expression on your face, making it harder to get the underlying tone of what you’re saying. So the person you get to know through those chats is flat. Like a drawing.”

Jumin nodded, “Yes. Something like that.” Something seemed to be on his mind, and it wasn’t long before he asked her, “But how did you picture me? You say you already saw my profile pictures, but was that enough to form an accurate image?”

“You are more…” MC waved her hands about vaguely. She couldn’t possibly tell him what she thought when she came in. “You are more… I don’t know. I like the real you better than the profile picture you,” she finished lamely.

  
“I am more… what?” He leaned closer over the table as well, his face blank, but MC was positive there was a mischievous glint in those grey eyes. “More… real? Like I feel you are?” He was whispering now. She stared at his lips, not able to answer.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.   
“Ah, I think our dinner has arrived.” And just like that, the moment was over.

A few moments later Jumin arrived with a short, stout little fellow following him on his heels. A thin, twirly moustache sat on his upperlip like a starving fancy caterpillar. This did not do much to distract from his most distinguishing feature: A huge nose. The nose wasn’t so much a distinguishing feature as it was almost an entity all in itself.  
  
“This is Jean-Pierre,” Jumin introduced the short man, “he is the chef. I’ve had him flown in directly from France last year and I’ve been very satisfied with his services for me. Sadly, he doesn’t speak English, but if you want to order something you can tell me and I will translate for you.”  
Jean-Pierre was pushing a trolley along, on which a few plates stood, a dishcover hiding their contents. He nodded a few times at MC, before scurrying away again and closing the door behind him.

“He seemed nervous,” MC remarked, watching the little man leave.

“Did he? I couldn’t tell. I never pay that much attention to the staff,” Jumin muttered, as he lifted the dishcovers from the plates. Steam wafted from the plates. The plates were covered with what seemed like a perfect dish of fish and chips.

“Oh, that looks fantastic! You have no idea how long it’s been since I last ate this!” MC exclaimed enthusiastically, deeply inhaling the scent of the food as Jumin set the plate in front of her. He glanced at her beaming face and started lighting a few candles on the table. With a few clicks on a remote control he dimmed the other lights in the room.

“I hope you don’t object to me picking a bottle of wine to go with this.” Jumin brandished a decanter of wine and with a flourish he filled the two wine glasses and gave one to MC. “I always like to drink at least one glass of wine in the evening. It’s good for your health.”

She took it carefully. “Uhm. Jumin. Not to put a damper on your good spirits,” she started, “but I don’t think this is a dish that really goes well with wine?” She swirled the red liquid in her glass and took a careful sip. It was a very good wine.

“Any dish goes well with wine.” Jumin sat down, putting a napkin on his lap, and took his knife and fork. “The question is simply whether to have a red, rosé, sparkling, or white wine. Shall we begin?”

MC nodded, not having the heart to argue the point further. She lifted her glass in a toast, “To a beautiful evening.” The candlelight reflected off the wine glass, giving the whole scene a fairytale feeling.

Jumin shook his head, “To beautiful company.” MC was happy that he had dimmed the lights earlier, this way he couldn’t see the bright red her face was right now. Dammit, she was blushing a lot tonight. This was very much not like her.

She took a quick sip of the wine. “This,” she said, nodding towards her glass, “is a very good wine.”

Jumin frowned, confused, “Of course. Did you think I would serve you subpar wine?” he looked at her, with his fork still halfway to his mouth. He seemed genuinely concerned about this.

“No! Of course not. Jumin, I was simply paying you a compliment. Strike up a conversation. You know.” MC laughed awkwardly, “I’m trying to get to know you a little bit better. See who the man underneath that suit really is.”

The moment she had said it, she knew it had been a mistake to phrase it like that. Silently cursing at herself she quickly took a bite from her food, trying desperately to avoid Jumin’s look and raised eyebrow.

“The man underneath this suit?” 

Oh God. Of course he would pick up on that.   
“My goodness, you weren’t lying when you said your chef could make anything,” she hastily said, “this tastes so much better than anything I’ve ever had!” She quickly put another bite of the fish in her mouth to stop herself from talking further. It was either that, or literally put her own foot in her mouth. This evening was a disaster so far. She had managed to insult Jumin by suggesting he had ‘subpar wine’ and now she basically confessed to him that she wanted to see him naked. Oh no… and she just said he hadn’t been lying. He would pounce on that as well. Real smooth there, MC. Real smooth.

“Just imagine how this dinner would be if you had ordered lobster or oysters,” Jumin said instead, “But I agree. This tastes acceptable. So, is this what common people in your country eat?”

MC shrugged, “It’s more of a touristy thing, these days. Especially in London itself. You wouldn’t believe the outrageous prices they’re charging for fried fish and potatoes that’s wrapped in paper. But a lot of people still really like it, me included.”

  
She watched him chew on his food thoughtfully, “Jumin?”.

He glanced up at her.

“Why do you keep thinking of food in terms as Commoner Food? Why not simply think of food as food?”

“Because not all food is commoner food. I certainly haven’t eaten all food that is available in this country, simply because my parents are rich enough to buy better quality. Is that wrong?”

  
“It’s not wrong, per se. But it’s weird and-” she stopped when she saw his look, and sighed, “You know what. Yes, Jumin. It’s wrong. Just because something isn’t as expensive as lobster, doesn’t mean that it’s food for only the people from the lower circles of society.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” He didn’t seem offended, he didn’t sound offended. In fact, he kept on eating, listening intently to what she was saying, as if she was giving him a very interesting lecture on… a very interesting topic. 

“Take for example the fish and chips you’re eating now,” MC waved her fork in the air for emphasis, “you like it, yes?”

Jumin nodded, not taking his eyes off of her face.

“You would’ve missed out on it if I hadn’t been here tonight. Just because it’s commoner food. That’s sad.” Perhaps ending an argument with ‘that is sad’ is not the most compelling thing to someone who has been known to shut out his emotions, but MC couldn’t help herself. “So, perhaps, if you think of food as simply food… you can try more things and not miss out?”

Jumin’s fingers ran up and down the stem of his wine glass as he seemed to mull this over in his mind.   
“You are right,” he said, nodding slowly, “By dividing food into separate classes I’ve been kept away from various foodstuffs over the course of my life. I intend to change this. MC,” he gave her a serious look, “I need you to give me a list of foodstuffs that I have claimed to be commoner food in the past so I can try them all and form an opinion on them myself.”

This was… not quite what she was aiming for, but alright.   
“Jumin, you don’t have to taste everything you’ve ever missed. But it might be worth it in the future to not avoid things simply because you were taught they were only for commoners.”

There was no reply. Jumin didn’t respond to what she just said, but kept looking at her over the rim of his glass.    
MC couldn’t read Jumin’s face, but she felt that he didn’t appreciate what she just said. She put her fork down, “I’m sorry,” she sighed, “that sounded like a lecture. I’m going about this all wrong, aren’t I? I just wanted to make you feel better, I certainly didn’t come here to lecture you. You should do whatever you want, really. I’m hardly in a position to tell you what to do or not to do, I mean-”

  
“What did you come here for? Precisely?” Jumin interrupted her rambling. He seemed utterly and completely at ease, sitting perfectly straight in his chair. The light of the candle shone through his wineglass, creating gorgeous red patterns on his immaculate white shirt. His fingers still laid around the stem of the glass, but he had stopped fiddling with it. He was now sitting still, simply looking at her, waiting for her answer.

“I came here because I was worried about you-” she started, but Jumin shook his head.

“That’s not what I want to hear,” he leaned forward, taking care that his tie didn’t end up in one of the empty plates, “Assistant Kang is worried about me as well, but I don’t see her here. She was here, earlier today, but she left without even offering to stay. She simply asked me to return to work. Neither do I see V, or Yoosung,” MC felt like she would drown in those grey eyes if he kept this up for too long, “the only one I see here, is you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” her lips felt dry, and she chewed on her bottom lip absentmindedly, “I’m here because I was worried about you, Jumin. I consider you my friend. It’s what you do for a friend, isn’t it?”

  
His gaze fell on her bottom lip, and MC instantly became aware that she had been biting it too much. She quickly drained her wine glass to distract him (and herself?).

Jumin leaned back again, making MC release a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding. This man…

“I suppose it is. I haven’t had many friends,” Jumin finally said, getting up to refill her glass, “but if this is what friends do, then I’m glad you’re mine.”

_ Mine _ . Butterflies wreaked havoc in MC’s stomach when she heard him say that. It wasn’t how he meant it, but…

  
This time he was the one to raise his glass when he sat down again, “To friends.”

  
MC raised her glass as well, “To dear friends,” she responded.

This man… was a danger. A danger to her heart and her sanity. 

~~

Jean-Pierre came to clean away the dirty plates after they finished dinner. MC watched the little man scuttle about as he fussed over the table, marvelling at how quickly he cleared everything away. He was in and out of the room in less than five minutes, leaving nothing but a lingering scent of fried fish.

Jumin had asked for another bottle of wine, but MC had politely declined. She was already feeling a bit fuzzy headed, this was not the time to be drinking any more. Instead, Jumin had asked the chef to bring a cup of tea upstairs for her. 

  
“It’s pretty late now,” Jumin said after the door closed behind Jean-Pierre, “I would feel a lot better if you’d stay the night.”

MC hesitated, “Jumin, I would love to stay here to keep you company, but I really didn’t count on this. Everything you see is literally the only things I brought along. I have no spare set of clothes-”

  
“That’s alright. I’ve got several sets of women’s clothes here, courtesy of the many girlfriends my father has had.”

“I didn’t bring a toothbrush-”

  
“I can send Mr. Kim to the nearest store to buy one for you.”

“And I don’t have anything to sleep in. Pyjamas, I mean.”

This immediately brought to mind a conversation they had on the phone just a day earlier. He had called her, late at night, troubled by his own mind. He said that he needed a distraction and that any topic would do, so he had asked her what she was doing at that moment. “Nothing much, I’m on the phone, wearing comfortable pyjamas.” She hadn’t thought anything of that seemingly innocent remark. But Jumin had steered the conversation to underwear that was apparently held together by ribbons. It had been very distracting. MC mentally kicked herself for bringing the pyjamas up again.

Jumin didn’t seem to have noticed her squirming.   
“Well, I don’t have a collection of pyjamas around,” he said slowly, “but I’m sure I have something for you to sleep in.”

  
“Jumin…”

  
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” he interrupted her, his voice monotone, “but I really would feel a lot better knowing you’re here and not on the streets at this time of night.” His gaze dropped to his cuffs as he fiddled with them, “You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the bed in the guest room. I’m feeling restless, so I’m probably not going to sleep at all.”

  
MC tried to read his face. There was something not quite right about this. Something he wasn’t expressing. Hah. That was a joke. Jumin was the king of not expressing things. And still…

“Very well.” 

Jumin’s head jerked up, surprised at her giving in. “Very well?” He sounded guarded, as if she’d take her word back any second now.

MC nodded, “Very well, but at one condition.”

  
“I was not aware this was a thing we could negotiate on.”

“One condition. I’m not sleeping in your bed. I’m sleeping in the guest room, or I’m not sleeping at all.” She knew it was a silly ultimatum, but silly was exactly what this man needed at this point. 

“Unacceptable.” He promptly stood up, walking towards a door at the far end of the room. “This is the bedroom. I’ll call Mr. Kim for-”

  
“Jumin. I’m serious. You were not aware that it’s a thing we could negotiate on because it’s not negotiable. I’m not taking your bed from you. Either I sleep in the spare bed, or not at all.”

“No.”

  
“Well. Then it seems we’ve reached an impasse.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, trying to keep a straight and serious face. 

“You are being stubborn.” It wasn’t an accusation, nor a question. It was simply a statement. “I feel you’re doing this to prove a point, but...I’m not sure what the point is. This seems very illogical and inefficient, MC.”

  
MC shrugged, “Be that as it may, those are my terms. So, what’s it going to be?”

Jumin, head tilted to the side again, crossed his arms in front of his chest too. The feeling that this was very similar to a business meeting to him, snuck up on MC. She might just lose this.   
“I don’t agree with your terms. I’m not going to sleep in my own bed.” 

“Neither am I. So, either you get into the spare bed with me, or you give in.”

Why? Why did she just say that? 

“That’s… not how it should be, MC. Don’t suggest that.”

He really did not want to give in on this, she could see that. He wouldn’t let her go home at this time at night. Which was something she could understand and respect. She had been curious to see how he would handle a stand-off like this, but now she was starting to feel sorry for him. Just a bit.

“Alright. I’ll give you a bit more space to work with,” she said, “we’re both feeling uncomfortable with the idea of the other sleeping in an apparently inferior bed. So, how about we both stay awake? We can make popcorn, watch a cheesy movie, make it a pyjama party.” She faltered, “Eh. The kind of pyjamas that don’t have ribbons.”

“You remember our conversation.” Again, not a question. Simply a statement. He seemed surprised, but pleased, as if he didn’t expect her to remember anything he told her. As if he was used to his words just falling onto deaf ears. 

Then, “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Then we won’t sleep at all. I can see the merit in staying awake to get to know you better,” he walked up to her, his face extremely serious, “I’ve already mentioned this, but I feel that you think the same way I do and I would like to find out if that feeling is right. I have several questions for you.”

MC laughed, not quite believing that he actually went along with her stupid idea. But, she wasn’t done yet.

“No, Jumin. No interrogation. A pyjama party. A sleepover.”

There was no recognition in his face at all. He had no idea what she meant with this. This man was more complicated than she had at first suspected. And she thought she had already suspected the worst.    
She sighed. “It’s fun, Jumin. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” He nodded slowly, “Okay. Show me.”

Wow. That was fairly unexpected. This evening was full of surprises.    
“Well, for starters, we have to get changed into something more comfortable than whatever you’re wearing right now.”

Jumin frowned and looked down at what he was currently wearing.    
“I assure you, this is made of the finest materials and handmade just for me. It’s extremely comfortable.”

This man...

“Yes. And it’s also something you would wear to work. In order to really enjoy this evening and let go of all the negative thoughts, you have to be really comfortable. No work related clothing allowed. At all.” 

She ignored her common sense screaming at her and marched to his bedroom, “Your closet is in here? Right? Surely you have something that’s more comfortable than-”

She stopped in her tracks when she saw that there was, in fact, no wardrobe in his bedroom. The bedroom, though tastefully decorated, was completely devoid of a wardrobe. What it did have, however, was a huge bed in the middle of the room, perfectly made. MC’s mind immediately went places. Places like how this bed would look like after Jumin spent a night in it, fitfully dreaming about… things. 

“No. I keep my clothes in my walk-in closet. That one over there.” Jumin was leaning casually against the doorpost, pointing somewhere to his left.

“A walk-in closet. Of course you have a walk-in closet,” MC muttered, as she moved past Jumin out of the bedroom, “Next you’ll tell me you have row upon row of the same suits in this closet, enough for you to wear a different one for every day of the mo- oh.” She had opened the closet door Jumin had pointed at, and was indeed greeted by rows of suits, all neatly pressed and hung on hangers in order of color.

“Well,” she said weakly, “this was strangely unexpected.”

  
“You made a joke, but the joke turned out to be true?”   
  
“Ye-es,” MC admitted, wishing the ground would swallow her whole, “I’m sorry Jumin, I didn’t mean to be, well, mean.”

  
“I’m not offended,” he shrugged, straightening a hanger that didn’t really need straightening in MC’s opinion, “I don’t care about such trivial things. I’ve learned long ago that some things I do seem to amuse others. I can’t let that affect me.”

Let’s… not delve any further into that, MC decided. She went through the numerous hangers, “You don’t have any leisure clothing in here?” she asked incredulously.

“I do. Hang on, it’s on the top shelf. I’ll get it for you, you’re probably too short to get it.”

He stepped behind her, and reached for something on a shelf, effectively towering over her. A tall man. MC felt his warm body behind hers and could barely refrain from leaning back into him. She could smell his aftershave. If she wanted to get really poetic about it, she could imagine that she could smell a faint hint of the soap he used to wash himself with, maybe even the fragrance of his shaving cream. And underneath all that, his own scent. This was bad. So, so bad. MC was in way over her head.

With only a minimum of their bodies touching, Jumin managed to grab a small pile of clothes from the shelf. He was right about her not being tall enough to reach all the way up there.

“Here.” He handed her the bundle of clothing. It wasn’t much, really. It was old, mostly. A pair of sweatpants, obviously expensive, obviously almost never worn. A green-black striped sweater, in the same state as the pants. A white t-shirt, to wear underneath the sweater probably. 

  
“This will do just fine, at least you can comfortably curl up on the sofa wearing clothes like these. You won’t have to worry about your shirt getting all wrinkled.” 

“I’m never worried about my clothes wrinkling. I have a person to do my ironing and my laundry. If you want, I can give you their contact information so they can iron your clothes as well. I’m sure they’ll give you a discount if you mention my name?”

One of these days she’d learn when not to joke when Jumin was around.

“That’s not what I- never mind.” She gave the bundle of clothing back to Jumin and almost pushed him out of the closet. She needed air. She needed a bit more space (metaphorical space, the closet was bigger than her entire apartment. It was ridiculous). She needed to stop thinking about him.    
“You get changed into that,” she pointed at the clothes, “And I… will have to find something else to get comfortable in. I’ve been wearing this all day.”

Jumin looked her up and down, “This is only about feeling comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes. That’s our mission for tonight.”

  
His lips twitched with distaste, “You sound like Seven when you speak like that. ‘Mission’.” He tucked the clothes under his arm and walked back into the closet, where he rummaged around a bit. When he emerged again, he had a white shirt draped over his arm.    
“You can wear this. I can vouch for its level of comfortableness.” 

Instant fire on her cheeks. “Jumin… I can’t go around wearing nothing but your shirt,” she stammered.

“You won’t be wearing just my shirt, Mr. Kim is buying you a pair of pyjamas as well as a toothbrush. But I thought this would be more comfortable than the jacket you’re wearing right now.”

Ah. That wasn’t awkward at all.   
“Thank you,” she muttered, taking his shirt out of his hands. “Alright. Now, you can go get changed in your things, I will put this on and get changed into the pyjamas when Mr. Kim gets here.”

  
Jumin seemed puzzled, but he sauntered off to his bedroom anyway. MC shakily breathed out. This was not going well at all. She had no idea she would be this clumsy and blundering around him. It would probably be too much to hope that he hadn’t noticed. She quickly changed her formal jacket and blouse for Jumin’s shirt. He was right. It really was a comfy shirt. Very soft. But also very much too large for her. She cast a critical glance in the mirror.

Her hair was a mess. Her make up was smudged. She looked like someone trying to cosplay as a ghost. In other words, perfect for a sleepover. She had taken her shoes off when she had entered the penthouse, but now her stockinged feet looked strange underneath this new outfit. She wrinkled her nose at her toes and looked around the closet. Against all odds she actually managed to find a pair of thick, black socks. Which were too large for her as well, but at least now she completely looked the part.

A scrunchy was unearthed from the depths of her jean’s pockets and she tied her long hairs in a messy ponytail. Yep. This was as good as it was going to get.

When she emerged from the closet, Jumin was already waiting for her. He was wearing the leisure outfit, which suited him shockingly well. But he didn’t really seem comfortable. He looked tense and unsure. When he saw her his face lit up.   
  


“You look nice,” MC complimented him, looking him up and down, “like you’re ready for a picnic.”

  
“That was the intention with which these clothes were bought at the time, yes. It seems they were chosen well, if you can guess their purpose that easily.” Jumin’s eyes narrowed, “I’m not sure I like the look of my shirt on you.”

MC started, unsure if she should be offended, “I’m...sorry?”.

“I don’t like seeing you in clothes that don’t fit you well. You deserve to be clothed perfectly. This seems wrong.”

“Oh, Jumin. Don’t worry about it,” MC laughed, “For a sleepover it’s almost required to have ill fitting clothes. Loose clothing is comfortable. You’re doing me a huge favor by lending this to me, really.”   
  
“Very well then,” he replied, his face a clear picture of reluctance and disbelief, “if you say so. We got changed. Now what do we do?”

  
“Now, we get popcorn.”

“Popcorn.”

  
“Yes. Corn that has been popped. Popcorn.”

  
“I have heard of this before, MC. I’m not a child.” He walked to the intercom.

  
“What are you doing?” MC followed him, frowning. 

  
“Telling Jean-Pierre to bring us popped corn.”

  
“NO!” MC grabbed his wrist and pulled his finger off the intercom button before he could place his ‘order’. “The whole idea of this is that we pop our own popcorn.”

  
“I just stated that I’m not a child. Am I wrong in thinking that making our popcorn is something only children and teenagers do?” Jumin asked, his gaze momentarily dropped to MC’s fingers still wrapped around his wrist. MC followed his glance and instantly let go.

“Sorry,” she muttered, “God, I’m making such a mess of this. I think I’ve apologized more times to you this evening than I’ve ever done in my entire life.” She sighed, “You know what? Never mind. Call Jean-Pierre, ask him to bring popcorn upstairs. We can do without making it ourselves. It’s too much to ask for a first dat- I mean, meeting. Heh. A first time meeting. Yes.”

  
“Right.” Jumin pressed the button on the intercom and said something to the person answering the call. MC presumed it was Jean-Pierre, but she wasn’t sure. 

She tried to not let her disappointment get her down as she walked towards the sofa that was facing a fairly gigantic television screen. 

When Jumin joined her a few moments later, she was sitting on her knees on the sofa, a frown on her face as she was searching between the pillows.

  
“What are you doing now?”

  
“I can’t find the remote to your television. I thought I could search for a movie while you busied yourself with… ordering… the popcorn… Okay, I realize now how lame that sounded. I swear I’m not mocking you. I simply meant that-”

“Television on.” The screen sprung to live, a loud toothpaste ad shattering her eardrums.

“Yes. Well. You could have had a remote as well,” MC muttered.

“You apologize too much,” Jumin stated, sitting down on the sofa next to MC, “It’s unnecessary. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  
“Sorry-”

“You’re doing it again.”

MC growled in frustration, which caused Jumin to look at her with a strange sad look on his face.

“I annoy you.”

“What? No, Jumin. You don’t. I’m just so frustrated with myself. I’ve been trying to make this a fun evening and I keep making it… not.” She shook her head, laughing a bit at how silly she was. She was still sitting on her knees, her back to the television. She nearly fell from the couch when she felt Jumin’s warm fingers awkwardly pat her thigh.   
  
“I’ve been told that a heartfelt ‘there, there’ should make you feel better,” he said, making MC’s mouth drop open, “but that seems stupid. Let me assure you instead that I am having fun. There aren’t a lot of people who can persuade me to change out of my suit. Nor are there a lot of people who I will allow in my shirts.”

There was a knock on the door and at Jumin’s answer Jean-Pierre came scuttling in. He gave MC a highly judgemental glance, probably not having a lot of good thoughts for English girls sitting the wrong way around on a sofa, before setting a large paper bag on the coffee table. Without saying a word he turned around on his heel and marched out again, his impressively sized nose stuck high in the air.

“Well, at least the popcorn is here!” MC quickly got back on her feet, imagining she could still feel the tingle of Jumin’s fingers on her leg. But when she opened the paper bag, she wasn’t greeted by mounds of white, fluffy popcorn. Instead, golden kernels gleamed in the soft candlelight. The chef had brought an entire paper bag of corn. Unpopped corn.    
Surprised, she looked back at Jumin who was watching her every move and seemed incredibly smug.

When he saw her surprised look he shrugged, “You said you wanted to pop the corn yourself. So I had Jean-Pierre bring up some corn.” He stood up and looked over MC’s shoulder at the contents of the paper bag, “He was a bit insulted when I told him though. I suppose he did not appreciate the insinuation that we don’t need him for everything we want to have cooked.”

“Jumin, thank you so much! I thought you didn’t like the idea of making our own popcorn. I can’t believe you told him to bring us this!” Happy as a clam, MC picked up the bag, “Where is the kitchen? We need to get started!”

The kitchen was gorgeous. Okay, let’s face it, the entire place was gorgeous and the kitchen completely fitted in the overall picture of ‘Beautiful Penthouse’. To MC’s surprise Jumin knew his way around the kitchen perfectly. She had expected him to show her where the kitchen was and then stand back because he never had any use for the kitchen, what with having a chef and all that.    
But instead he navigated the kitchen as confidently as he did everything in life. When she asked for a pot, he put one on the counter before she even finished the sentence. The cooking oil, salt, and butter were produced within seconds of her asking for it.    
“I thought you didn’t cook?” she asked him while they were waiting for the corn to magically turn into popcorn on the hot stove.

“I didn’t say that, I just said that if you wanted properly cooked food we should ask the chef instead. I have many talents, but cooking is not one of them.” The corner of his mouth twitched up briefly in a quirky smile, “I can make acceptable pancakes, though.”

Jumin’s cellphone went and he excused himself for a moment, leaving MC alone with her thoughts in the kitchen. Well, at least he seemed in a better and more stable mood than before. If things kept going this well, he might be persuaded to go back to work tomorrow. And if he went to work without incident, he could see that there was nothing to fear and he could Elizabeth go free again. Granted, there were a lot of ‘if’s there.

But still, things were going well.

The corn suddenly popping in the pot gave her a near heartattack as it ripped her from her daydream. 

“You startle easily,” Jumin said as he came back into the kitchen unexpectedly, giving MC another scare, “is there any specific reason for this nervousness?”.

She glared at him, “You sneaking around like a freaking ninja could be a good reason. Make some noise when you walk!” Her eye fell on a small plastic bag he was carrying with him, and she remembered that she had heard him open the door while she was watching the popcorn. “Oh, that was Mr. Kim at the door?”

“Yes. What do you mean, make some noise when I walk? Do you want me to stomp around?” Jumin gave her the plastic bag as he was talking, “Because that seems rather excessive. It would be so much more efficient to find a solution to your nervousness instead.”

The popping noise from the stove caught his attention and he moved to curiously lift the lid off the pot. 

MC slapped his wrist and glared at him.”No. You do not lift the lid off the popcorn. If you want the corn to pop you’re gonna keep the lid on.”

Jumin jerked his hand back, looking startled from MC to his wrist. She hadn’t slapped him hard, just a slight slap to warn him.   
“I don’t often get told what to do…” he muttered.

“Yes, well,” MC replied, feeling slightly guilty but determined to stand her ground, “don’t just grab at things if someone else is working on it. Ask first. That prevents a lot of hurt.”

She turned the stove off and tipped its contents in a large bowl that Jumin helpfully provided. He hadn’t said anything after her gentle scolding, but MC felt that this wouldn’t be the last she would hear of it.

She set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and turned to Jumin who was still following her around the penthouse to see what she was doing. She felt very much watched. Possibly this was the reason she was so nervous.   
“Alright,” she put her hands on her hips, plastic bag still dangling from her wrist, “I’m going to change into the pyjamas Mr. Kim brought. You can pick us a nice movie to watch. Something silly and possibly romantic, because that’s the tradition for sleep overs,”   
  
“Is it, now?”

“Sorry, I didn’t make the rules. Anyway, I’ll be back. Do not touch that popcorn until I’m back!”

And with that, MC went into the bedroom to change.

The pyjamas fit perfectly. Jumin had guessed her size flawlessly. She hadn’t really expected otherwise, but it still made her heart race. When she reemerged, she saw Jumin sitting on the sofa with perfect posture. Nothing about him seemed relaxed. It was then that she remembered that Jumin had mentioned in a phonecall that he always felt awkward in comfortable clothing. Maybe she should have been less adamant about him changing. She would apologize to him after the movie.

She let herself fall on the sofa next to him and tucked her feet underneath her legs as she sat crosslegged.   
“So, what are we watching?” She asked, making a grab for the popcorn bowl.

“You’ve Got Mail,” Jumin answered, “I thought we weren’t supposed to touch the popcorn yet?”

“Not until I was back. Now we can actually share the popcorn together. And, You’ve Got Mail? Really? I hadn’t expected that from you, Jumin. Isn’t it too… sentimental?” She teasingly nudged him in the ribs with her elbow before offering him some popcorn from the bowl.

To his credit, he didn’t hesitate a moment before grabbing a handful of popcorn and popping one in his mouth.   
“On the contrary. I really enjoy thinking of business plans that would allow both of them to be happy and continue their respective businesses. I admire the male lead’s ability to stay focused on his job and not only on the woman. Well. For the first part, that is. After that his motives get questionable.”

  
MC stared at him, her brain encountering an error when trying to process what he just said. “Are you really trying to tell me that you’re imagining an Alternate Universe of this movie in your head, only with better business plans?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand.”

“... Never mind… let’s just watch the movie.”

~~

_ “ Don't cry, Shopgirl, don't cry.” _   
  
Jumin glanced down at the girl leaning against his shoulder and frowned.   
  


_ “I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly.” _

  
She was breathing slowly and deeply. Her eyelashes a dark shadow against her pale skin, set off by the bright red of her cheeks. 

Why on earth was she sleeping? She had wanted to see the movie. She was the one who had eaten most of the popcorn (Jumin stopped eating them because he almost choked after one of them got stuck in his throat. Damn dry things.) They had had fun. And now she was asleep.   
He should probably shake her gently, to wake her up.

Instead he whispered as loud as he dared, “Shut down,” and sat in the dark livingroom as the glare from the television died down. The candles had burned down a while before that. Everything was quiet, except for her breathing. Outside he could see the lights from the traffic below creating a silent red snake on the roads. The warmth from her body soothed his troubled mind. The heavy press of her head on his shoulder grounded him. For the first time in years Jumin felt like he actually  _ belonged _ .

He didn’t move, took his time analyzing his feelings and thoughts. Maybe he was coming down with something. A fever, possibly. But no, he didn’t feel sick. The feeling of calm and relaxation grew stronger as he stared at MC in the dark. With a touch as light as a feather he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Her beautiful face.

Could it be? Could it be that this feeling was being in love?

  
Whatever it was, Jumin Han liked it. And he was determined to hang on to it.


End file.
